


Her Way

by blackchaps



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Sentient Atlantis, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:25:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis has a plan, and Rodney isn't happy about it. John is oblivious, as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Way

*********

“You’re not listening to me! It simply can’t be done!” Rodney gestured wildly with the laptop, moving closer to the object of his ire.

“You mean you’re not smart enough to figure it out with the resources we have.” Sheppard shrugged. “Guess you can’t be a genius every day.” He turned and left. Just left! Rodney clamped his lips around a few dozen curse words, slapped Zelenka in the chest with the laptop, and dashed after him.

“You can’t just walk away! We’re not done!” Rodney refused to run but Sheppard wasn’t slowing down. Sheppard disappeared around a corner, making it impossible to throw something at him, and Rodney picked up the pace. Two more corners, down three levels, and Rodney stopped. “Colonel?”

Silence answered him. He knew exactly where he was, of course, but people didn’t normally use this level, and leave it to Sheppard to have sneaky ways to get around the city. Rodney groaned and gave up. He’d never catch him.

“Fine!” Rodney shouted to no one. He didn’t like the fact that the lights suddenly dimmed. That could be bad. One of his so-called scientists was trying to destroy the city again. He heard a noise, whipped around, and bumped right into a wall that shouldn’t have been there. “Ouch!” He shoved away from the wall but went nowhere. “Help?”

*********

“Is Rodney going to work on it?” Dr. Weir asked as she put her tray down. “I know it’s not high priority.”

“He says it’s not possible.” Sheppard looked around the cafeteria. “For some reason, I thought he was following me here.”

“I don’t see him.” Dr. Weir craned her neck before turning back to him.

Sheppard would catch up with him later. They weren’t finished talking.

*********

Rodney stared for two minutes before struggling wildly. It didn’t help. Panting, he tried to calm down. It wasn’t working. His hands were stuck in the wall! It wasn’t possible! But it had happened, and he couldn’t get them out. Several more deep breaths, and he tried to ease them away. Nothing.

“This just isn’t possible!” He blinked several times and stared again. His hands had disappeared into the wall up to his wrists. There was still blood flow. No tingling, but he couldn’t pull them free. “Please, please, please, don’t let Zelenka find me like this!” he whispered and leaned his head against the wall. The depth of his mistake took almost two seconds to register. “Help!”

*********

“Ronon, you seen Rodney?”

“Is he missing?” Ronon looked up and down the hallway.

Sheppard sighed. “I’m sure he’s in one of the labs cursing at me.” He noticed that Ronon didn’t stick around after that, and he tapped his earpiece. “Rodney?”

Nothing. Sheppard tried again on a different channel. “Zelenka?”

“I’m here,” Zelenka said. “Problem?”

“Where’s McKay?” Sheppard sighed. He didn’t like the long moment of silence that followed.

“He ran out after you. He didn’t find you?” Zelenka sounded confused.

Sheppard groaned but softly. “I’ll find him. Go back to blowing up stuff.”

*********

“Please let me go,” Rodney said firmly. He wasn’t exactly surprised that it didn’t work, but he’d had to try. Again. He’d been down here so long he was starting to mold, and panic had given way to desperation and swung back to panic twice now. Maybe politeness would help. “Please?”

Silence. He groaned loudly and picked up his foot to brace it against the wall. “Wait. That’s a bad idea.” He shifted, trying desperately to think of a solution while putting his leg down fast. Raising his shoulder, he tried to bump his ear piece. It wasn’t possible. His head was stuck too firmly in the wall, which wasn’t possible!

“Listen, um, if I’m down here, someone up there might blow you up.” Rodney couldn’t believe he was trying to negotiate with a wall, but it was all he had. “It could happen! It really could. You know Zelenka. He can’t be trusted, and the rest of them? Don’t even get me started. Please, just, let me go!”

Struggling at this point was ridiculous, but he did it anyway. The wall hummed and he saw a light come on further down the corridor. “Help!” he yelled, not caring any longer if it was Zelenka.

“McKay! Are you down here?”

Rodney wished he could slump, and he’d thought Zelenka would be awful. “Over here!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Damn it, McKay. I do not have time for hide-and-seek today!” Sheppard sounded annoyed.

“But I’m right here!” Rodney tried to yell louder, but he had a bad feeling – a worse feeling. “Do not even consider putting a sound dampening field around me, you, you bitch!”

The light in the walls did a racing flicker thing, and he stamped his foot from frustration. “Do not! I’ll starve to death! I’m already hungry! Please!”

“I don’t remember a wall here,” Sheppard mumbled. “What the hell is McKay up to?”

“Nothing! Just starving!” Rodney kicked the wall in frustration, somewhat surprised when it didn’t stick. “Colonel!”

The entire corridor seemed to hum and the lights went on and off, and he prepared himself to die – again. They’d find his bones in a few years, if the city didn’t eat him. He thrashed again, wishing he could slump to his knees. This was so far past funny.

“What the hell?” Sheppard had found him, thank God. “McKay? Never mind. I recognize your… never mind. I’ll call for help.”

“Please! Do that!” Rodney snapped very ungraciously.

Sheppard tapped his earpiece. “Zelenka?”

Neither of them heard anything. Rodney found the strength to growl, “Sound dampening field near me. You’ll have to move away. It’s why you couldn’t hear me screaming my head off!”

“Nothing like having your head stuck in a wall to make you grouchy.” Sheppard was trying not to laugh. Rodney could tell. Everyone laughed at him sooner or later. Stupid city. She liked Sheppard. She’d do anything for him. Sheppard moved further away, but still, no answer on the radio.

“Oh, you stupid bitch. You hate me, don’t you?” Rodney kicked her again.

“That’s not smart.” Sheppard came over and crouched down to look up at him. “You okay? Beyond mad as hell?”

“Fine!” Rodney yelled. He took several deep breaths. “Sorry. I’m stuck in a damn wall!”

Sheppard choked on something that might have been laughter. “I see that. What is it with this hallway? Nothing works!”

Rodney gathered the tattered remains of his temper. “She hates me. I slave for her night and day, and she hates me. You, she loves, and all you do is lie about and read Russian novels. This is revenge, pure and simple.”

“Who the hell are you talking about?” Sheppard looked around. “Have you been drinking?”

“I wish.” Rodney again tried to pull his hands out. Nothing. He took another deep breath. “Atlantis. She loves you. Me, not so much.”

Sheppard gave a small grunt. “I’m going for help.” He took a step.

“Please! Don’t, um, go.” Rodney hated that the muscles in his back were trembling. “Please, Colonel. Not only will everyone laugh their asses off, but I’ll be…  alone.”

There was too much silence, and Rodney watched Sheppard’s boots. “Please?”

“You save that word for special occasions, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Rodney never said it easily. “Just talk to her. Convince her to let me go.”

Sheppard suddenly slid down the wall and sat. They could see each other easily now. “The city isn’t alive, or so you’ve told me a hundred times. This has to be some sort of anomaly that you could fix in five minutes, if you weren’t stuck in the wall.”

“Go ahead and laugh.” Rodney glared. Sheppard wiped his mouth, sighed, and then burst out laughing. It was loud, and he laughed until two tears squeezed out his eyes. He took several deep breaths, clutched his stomach, and then laughed some more. Rodney maneuvered just a little and kicked him firmly in the shin. “Are you quite finished?”

“Ow!” Sheppard rubbed it and scooted out of the way, getting to his feet. “Yeah, I’m done, but you have to admit, this is funny. In a few weeks, you’ll be laughing too.”

“If I’m not dead!” Rodney wasn’t ever going to laugh about this. “From starvation! I’m headed straight for hypoglycemic shock!”

Sheppard could be heard rummaging in his vest. “That, I can fix.” He sat back down, but on the other side, and lifted the power bar to Rodney’s lips. “Eat and let me think.”

Rodney took a big bite and chewed vigorously. He wasn’t hopeful about the thinking part, even if Sheppard wasn’t as thick-headed as the rest of the military personnel. “Anything yet?”

The bar was shoved back in his mouth, which was answer enough. He ate it and began to tremble less, so that was something, but he was still screwed.

“C-4.”

Eyes bulging, a few crumbs dropped from his open mouth, and he swallowed convulsively. “Are you insane?” he howled.

“Ok, not a good idea. It’d work though.” Sheppard gave him another bite and carelessly wiped a few crumbs off with his fingers. Rodney licked for them greedily but stopped when he realized that his tongue was on Sheppard’s fingers. Sheppard’s eyes were larger than normal as he wiped his hand on his BDU’s. “We could use a jackhammer!”

“Do you have one?” Rodney mumbled, careful not to spit.

“Damn.” Sheppard took a bite of the bar, and Rodney wanted to kick him again. That was his food! They exchanged a short look, and they both looked away. Sheppard shoved the last of it in Rodney’s mouth and got to his feet. “I’ll try to blast you free.”

Rodney tried to recoil and swallowed frantically as Sheppard pulled his sidearm and aimed it closer than was comfortable for a man that couldn’t run. “Wait! You’ll deafen me!” He was afraid it was more of a mumble than a screech.

Sheppard hesitated. “Your head _is_ close to your hands.” He turned completely around and fired at the wall across from them. It was still loud, and Rodney flinched. Sheppard stepped out of sight and said, “Didn’t work anyway.”

“Great.” Rodney meant that. “Can’t you sweet talk her? Ask politely for your friend back.”

“How about I ask for the biggest pain in my ass?” Sheppard laughed again. “If the city is sentient, she’ll never believe that friend line.”

Cursing at him would do no good whatsoever, but oh, it was tempting. “Okay, put your hand on my wrist and tug, gently. Say something nice.”

Sheppard groaned. “I could just go get help!”

“Just one time and then you can go get help. Now that I’m not going into shock, I could make it.” Rodney couldn’t even beg with his eyes, not that he would. “One time?”

“Once.” Sheppard seemed to have a hard time finding a place to stand. “Can’t you? Never mind. Jeez, is it me, or is it hot in here?” He placed one hand on Rodney’s back. Rodney tried not to flinch, but the hand was very warm. He almost held his breath as Sheppard wrapped his other hand tightly around Rodney’s wrist. “Let go.”

Rodney blew out a huge breath of desperation. “Say it nicely!”

“Let McKay go before he drives me insane.” Sheppard pulled. “Please.” He yanked hard. Rodney nearly yelled, but he could only pant in amazement as the wall sucked them deeper. Now he was up to near his elbow and Sheppard’s hand was gone above the wrist.

“This isn’t funny!” Sheppard struggled, and Rodney tried not to curse at him.

“Ow. Stop. Really. You’re stepping on me!” Rodney couldn’t do much but yell. “Don’t touch it again!”

“No, shit!” Sheppard sounded really pissed off now, and Rodney tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny. Damn it. He giggled. Sheppard slapped the back of Rodney’s head. “Shut up!”

“We should’ve gone with the C-4.” Rodney tried not to grin. He noticed that Sheppard moved out of range but didn’t touch the wall. “Whatever you do, don’t bang your head in frustration.”

Sheppard groaned loudly and tried to get his radio to work. “I can’t believe you did this to us!”

“Me?” Rodney wished he could slap him back. “All I was trying to do was have a reasonable argument about the abject stupidity of your latest plan!”

They both began to struggle, and Rodney shouted in amazement when his head popped free and he was able to stand straighter. He bumped into Sheppard and grinned wildly. “My head!”

“Is still huge from your ego.” Sheppard glared into Rodney’s eyes. Rodney groaned and tried to stretch his back without touching the wall. He wasn’t a young man any longer. Sheppard said softly, “Back hurt?”

“Yeah.” Rodney nearly shouted again when Sheppard began to rub it with his free hand. He was able to reach all the kinked spots, and Rodney wanted to sigh with pleasure, but he wouldn’t. “Thanks.”

Sheppard shrugged and looked away. “Okay, what did you do to get free?”

“Nothing.” Rodney knew that for sure. He looked closely at the wall where their hands disappeared. “I have a big ego because I’m a genius.”

“I know! We all know!” Sheppard got very close – too close. “You could ease up a little. Isn’t the fact you save our asses once a week proof enough?”

Rodney frowned and thought it over. “Once a week is probably right.” He could mention it less, maybe, now that he knew it annoyed Sheppard. “You’re one too.”

“So what?” Sheppard moved and his free hand went towards the wall, and Rodney shoved in an attempt to block him. Their bodies were too damn close now, and Sheppard put his hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “Relax. I’m not going to touch it. And whatever you do, don’t lean your head again.”

“So funny.” Rodney found his breath coming a little too fast, but there was nowhere to go, and he focused on breathing. There had to be a solution here. It was hard to be a genius with Sheppard so close. “You ate chocolate?”

“There was pudding at lunch.”

“Oh, God,” Rodney breathed. He wanted to lick a taste from Sheppard’s mouth. “I don’t suppose you put some in your pocket?”

“Uh, no.” Sheppard laughed, but it was a gentle sound this time. “Do you think she likes pudding?”

Rodney laughed with him. “She loves you. It bugs the hell out of me.”

“I can tell,” Sheppard said dryly. “Atlantis doesn’t think or feel.”

But Rodney saw him cast a look up and down in the wall in near fear. “She can hear you. If we can figure out her agenda, we can go get more pudding.” He could almost taste it.

“What were you thinking when your fat head popped free?” Sheppard’s eyes laughed at him.

Rodney kicked him again but not too hard. He tried to remember. “I was thinking I wanted to stand up and yell at you for being a moron.” That was a lie, but it sounded convincing. He’d been thinking about kissing Sheppard’s pudding mouth.

Sheppard glared and then moved his face closer. “You’re lying. Your eye is twitching.” He sighed. “Okay, let me think.”

Nothing happened, so Rodney started to hum a tune and shift on his feet. Sheppard’s hand was still around his wrist. He could feel it, and he liked it, and that was a bad thing. They had to get away from this damn wall before something happened that he couldn’t take back. Thoughts wouldn’t get him into trouble, but acting on them would be disastrous.

“Why isn’t my hand numb?”

“No answer to that.” Rodney shifted again. “I need to sit down.”

Sheppard stared at him. “Kneeling is about the best you’ll get, but don’t. Do not.”

Rodney, with all his genius powers, didn’t get it for ten long seconds, and then it blew through him like a Wraith stunner. “Oh. Sure. Won’t,” he choked out and then turned his face away. At least he was on his feet, and this would be over soon, and he could creep back to his lab and pray Sheppard didn’t tell anyone.

“Wall, let me go.” Sheppard tried the obvious. “Please. At least drop the field so we can call for help.”

That was a good idea. It didn’t work, but Rodney was glad Sheppard was talking to her. She listened to him. Suddenly, Sheppard shifted around the back of him. “I’m going to pull this arm.”

That was the worst idea ever, and Rodney froze as Sheppard’s warm body molded against his. “She’ll eat it. Don’t.” He wasn’t sure why his voice was working, and he sent up a lonely prayer. _Please let me forget the feel of his body._ No one answered, of course, and he made sure not to heave a sigh of relief when Sheppard moved as far away as possible.

“I’ll try to think us free.”

Rodney waved his hand at the idiotic idea and then gasped. “My hand.” He wiggled it, clenched it, and put it safely away from the wall. “Thank you, Atlantis.” And he meant it.

Lights dimmed and came back on stronger, and he smiled at Sheppard. Sheppard stood a little straighter and then coughed. “Well, we’re almost out of here. Use that big brain to convince Atlantis to let us go.”

“I’ll focus on pudding.” Rodney tried to stand a touch farther away from him. Sheppard’s breath was right on Rodney’s neck, or so it seemed. “You’re taller than I am.”

“Does it annoy you?”

“Occasionally.” Rodney wanted to look him in the eye, instead of up. “Luckily, you slouch a lot and I don’t think anyone notices.”

Sheppard put his free hand on Rodney’s shoulder like a thunderclap of doom. “You talk too fast, but luckily, I don’t think anyone cares what you’re talking about.”

“Now, that was just mean.” Rodney thought it might be true. He nibbled the inside of his lip. “Tall people get more sex. They’ve done actual studies. It’s the reason you get laid all the time.”

“Couldn’t it be my charm?”

“Trust me, no.” Rodney stabbed back at him. “And it’s not your hair.”

Sheppard ran his hand through his hair. “I like my hair.” He smiled. “Are you thinking?”

That was a dumb question, but Rodney just nodded. He was thinking all right – about Sheppard’s warm hand and pretty eyes and spiky hair and those extra inches and how they might fit perfectly together. He swallowed all his spit and begged Atlantis to let him loose so he could run far away.

Nothing happened.

“Talk to her, John. Tell her we’ll be good boys and fix all her parts and never complain.” Rodney sank down to his knees in despair. It put strain on his arm, but his legs were tired. He resolutely made sure he wasn’t looking at any part of Sheppard’s body.

Sheppard’s voice was harsh. “Let us go. Now. Please. Rodney can’t take it anymore.”

Rodney wanted to pout when a strong, but gentle, hand came to rest on his back. He’d wanted to come on this expedition more than anything else in the world, but if he’d have known about Sheppard, he might have stayed home. Gone back to Antarctica. Something else. Something that didn’t make him feel so damn dumb and weak and ridiculous.

“I’m not a genius.” Rodney had to take the pressure off his arm, and he stood. Unconsciously, he curled close to the wall and leaned.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sheppard snapped and yanked him away. “Lean on me if you’re tired.”

That was a terrible idea, but he did it. “Sorry for this. I know you don’t like me, and I’m annoying, and the only reason I’m on your team is because I’m not half-bad at the technology stuff. Rodney McKay – pain in the ass.”

“Are you sniffling? I swear to God, if you sniffle, I’m leaving.” Sheppard put his arm completely around him. “None of that is true. Now, I believe you – you’re not a genius.”

“Not at anything that matters.” Rodney knew that was true. “You and Teyla make it look easy, but I can’t relate to anything but cats. Even food hates me.”

Sheppard gave him a shake. “Enough with the pity. Atlantis will let us go in a minute and you can rush off to the lab, work all hours of the night, and save our collective asses weekly.”

“And you can go hang out with your real friends and laugh at me, like usual.” Rodney would’ve shoved him away but there was no place to go. “Don’t lie about that, Colonel.” He was glad that Sheppard didn’t blurt out a lie. There was silence between them. The hallway began to hum again, and that usually meant something was about to happen.

“Colonel! Rodney! Are you down here?”

It was Zelenka, and Rodney didn’t even bother to yell for help. _She_ had other plans. He did hope that they had a life signs detector with them, but that was as far as he’d go.

“Over here!” Sheppard yelled and yelled, but it was obvious they couldn’t hear him.

“What’s the detector say?” It was Dr. Weir.

“There are unusual power readings in this corridor, but no life signs.” Zelenka sighed. “The internal sensors aren’t working, which is another mystery. This is like chicken in haystack.”

Rodney giggled. He did, and he pushed Sheppard’s arm away and went back down to his knees. “Oh, man, we’re chickens in a haystack. So dead. So dead.”

“Rodney! Shut up!” Sheppard didn’t sound amused. He pulled hard but nothing happened, and Rodney tried to stop laughing. He did. Their voices faded as they went the other way, and the hallway went dark, completely dark. He couldn’t see their trapped hands in front of his face, and he hated that he heard himself whine. This day could not get any worse. Even pudding couldn’t make it right now.

Sheppard’s body suddenly held him tight. “It’s okay.”

Lashing out at him was stupid. Yelling at him was even dumber, so Rodney did nothing but lean against him. “Sorry.” It was all he could think of to say. He wasn’t all that brave – it had been brought to his attention more than once – and he wasn’t even good at pretending he was brave. “Can you see anything?”

“Nothing.” Sheppard’s voice was soft and right next to Rodney’s ear. “I do like you, and I don’t laugh at you, even when the other guys do.”

That was probably a lie, but Rodney let it go. “It’s okay. The geek club gets together and pokes fun at you military types all the time.”

“Then I feel better,” Sheppard drawled. “Are you the president?”

“Simpson took over when I learned to shoot.” Rodney blinked several times, but it was still dark as hell. “Zelenka is the secretary, but no one can read his notes.”

Sheppard’s laugh was a surprise. He seemed to tuck him even closer. “Is Carson the treasurer?”

“Thrifty Scots.” Rodney laughed with him. “He can make a penny scream for mercy.” They laughed together. “Don’t tell Grodin about the club.”

“He’s not in it?”

“With his looks? Way too cool for us.” Rodney wanted to reach back and hold Sheppard even tighter. Never let go. They were right together. They were a fit. He’d known it, despite his insecurities. He could feel it, flowing between them.

Sheppard gave off a breathy moan. “You’re warm.”

“You’re hot.” Rodney fully intended the double usage of the vocabulary. He slung his arm back and found Sheppard’s thigh. With a squeeze, he said, “Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Never.” Sheppard meant that – it was easy to hear. “But I won’t forget.”

Rodney thought that might be enough to get him through the lonely nights. “No more laughing at me?”

“No more.” Sheppard made it a promise by holding him just an inch tighter. “And you’ll stop telling me you’re a genius all the time?”

“I will.” Rodney would try. He blinked in surprise when the lights came on around them. “Okay, John, ask politely. She’s listening.”

Sheppard took an audible breath. “Atlantis, let us go. Rodney is hungry, and people are worried. Please.”

Their arms dropped, and Rodney scooted on his butt as far away from the wall as possible. He had to scramble over Sheppard, but he was good with that. They both staggered to their feet and practically ran up the flight of stairs.

Sheppard grabbed him at the top. “Pudding?”

“You bet your sweet ass, and next time you want to take some secret shortcut, you can rest assured that I won’t be following you!” Rodney rubbed his arms and hurried to the cafeteria, making sure not to touch any walls. He heard Sheppard talking to Weir and Zelenka, but he didn’t think they required his presence.

Loading his tray, he shamelessly took two puddings – he’d earned them. He could feel his sugar levels dropping, and he sat down heavily at a table.

“Do I need to examine you, lad?”

“Not talking. Eating.” Rodney wouldn’t leave this food for anything less than a Wraith attack, and even that wouldn’t stop him from eating the pudding.

“You do look a mite pale.” Carson was eying the pudding. Rodney was sure of it, so he covered it protectively while chewing. He was not going to think about anything that had happened in that hallway. Not ever. Remembering how their bodies had molded together was for fools, and he was never a fool.

Sheppard and Weir and Zelenka suddenly descended on the table, and Rodney shoved more food in his mouth.

“Let me see your arms for a wee second.”

Rodney chewed, showed them off, and took a big drink of what passed for coffee lately. “I’m fine.”

“Sounds like a close call to me. Should we restrict access to that part of the city?” Weir asked.

Zelenka looked at Rodney. Sheppard looked at Rodney. Rodney paused before putting the forkful of food in his mouth. “It was a fluke. Colonel Sheppard turned it off, I’m fine. You can all go back to your real jobs.” He shoved it in to avoid more words.

They all exchanged looks that he recognized but this time he wasn’t sorry for acting the asshole. This time it had to be that way to protect Sheppard’s reputation and his own carefully constructed reality.

Zelenka huffed and left after a few Czech words that didn’t sound polite. Sheppard made a joke. “C’mon, Elizabeth. Let’s leave Rodney to his pudding. He might stab us with a fork otherwise.”

That would usually call for a sarcastic rejoinder, but Rodney was too hungry. Carson gently put a hand on Rodney’s arm. “Slow down. You’ll choke or vomit. They’re gone.”

Rodney swallowed and took a big breath of air. “I really am fine.”

“I know. You’ve said it so many times that even I’m convinced.” Carson turned Rodney’s hand over and scrutinized it. “You never lost feeling?”

“No. It was the oddest thing.” Rodney held it up and looked for himself. “It was like being held immobile by Jell-o. I know she didn’t intend to hurt me.”

“She?” Carson looked confused.

Rodney waved his hand dismissively. He went back to eating but at a slower pace. When he was down to pudding, he paused to savor the moment. “Seriously, don’t you have patients?”

“I hate to leave when I might be called right back to do the Heimlich.” Carson smiled. “Colonel Sheppard rescued you?”

“Sorta. Not really. It was my idea.” Rodney hated to give him all the credit. “He just has that souped up gene.” He didn’t mention that she loved him. That would sound insane. It was okay to think and yell it at Sheppard, but other than that, mum was the word.

“Well, I guess you canna choke on pudding. I’ll be going now.” Carson got up from the table. “Come see me if you have any trouble.”

Rodney nodded and was ridiculously glad to be alone with his pudding. He swirled it and then took a small bite, letting it dissolve on his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled.

“I should probably leave you two alone.”

That jolted him, and he nearly knocked it over, and he glared as he took his second bite. “Colonel.”

“Rodney.” Sheppard smiled. Using first names was cheating, and Sheppard knew it. “Are you feeling better?”

“Do not patronize me,” Rodney ground out. “I was there hours before you found me.”

Sheppard’s smile slid away. “The dampening field was dirty pool.”

“It was.” Rodney went ahead and glared at the walls. “Next time there’s a crisis, I may just let her explode.”

He leaned very close. “She can hear you. You should shut up.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Rodney dipped another spoonful and ate it happily. It was almost enough to make him forget the ordeal of being stuck in a wall with Sheppard’s body pressed against him. He nearly choked, had to take a big gulp of air, and flushed bright red.

“Shit, and Carson left!” Sheppard got halfway to his feet before Rodney grabbed him by the hand.

“No!” Rodney wheezed. He coughed and tried to make Sheppard sit. Sheppard moved around the table and slapped him on the back hard. “Ow!”

Sheppard looked him right in the eye. “Breathe.”

Rodney took an exaggerated breath. “I am. Sit down!”

“Okay. Stop yelling.” Sheppard sat down next to him. “You die from pudding and you will never live it down.”

The hilarity of that was lost in his anger over spitting precious pudding all over the table. Sheppard gave a long-suffering sigh. “This is why I don’t like to sit across from you.” He found some napkins and mopped it up. Rodney carefully put the pudding aside and clasped his hands to his head. He had to be losing his mind. It was the only explanation for this day.

“While you were, um, stuck, did you give any thought to that job you and I were discussing earlier?”

Rodney shoveled all the pudding in his mouth at once, grabbed the extra one, and bolted for the door. He’d had more than enough talking, and he was going back to his lab for some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, Sheppard shadowed him the entire way there.

“What?” Rodney whipped around right before he went through the last door.

“Just making sure you don’t get stuck in the floor.”

There were no words mean enough, but Rodney gave it a try. “Laugh all you want. In fact, go find all your knuckle-dragging buddies and laugh at me some more!”

Sheppard’s eyes widened and he took a small step back. For one second, he looked sorry and miserable and then he wiped it away, but Rodney had seen it. Rodney didn’t know what to say to make it better – it wasn’t likely anyway – so he shoved his way inside the lab and stopped in complete amazement.

“I, uh, didn’t think you’d be in today!” Zelenka ran his hands through his hair – it looked as if there might be slightly less of it, and the lack of eyebrows was truly disturbing. “We had a tiny problem.”

“I swear if it wasn’t for the pudding in my pocket, I’d go throw myself off a balcony,” Rodney mumbled to himself. He fixed Zelenka with a terrible glare. “I’m going to my quarters. When I come in tomorrow, this mess better be gone!”

“Wow, he yells a lot,” Sheppard said.

“You have no idea,” Zelenka replied.

Rodney wanted to throw a chair at either of them, but there were none handy and his back ached from leaning over most of the day. He leveled his laser eyes at them, huffed, and took his pudding towards the infirmary.

“I thought you were fine?” Carson looked up quickly from his desk. “You’re a funny color. Did you choke on the pudding?”

“Shut up.” Rodney lifted his hand. “I want a pain killer. A real one.”

Carson instantly frowned. “Shouldn’t I be examining you first?”

“No. My head hurts. My back aches. Pain killer. Now.” Rodney hoped he looked as insane as he felt. Carson did edge away, and he sighed deeply before digging in a cabinet and putting one pill in Rodney’s hand.

“That’ll help, and come see me tomorrow if your back still aches. You might have pulled a muscle.”

Rodney didn’t stay to talk or even thank him. He turned and nearly crashed into Sheppard. Sheppard grabbed him tight to keep him on his feet.

“Ow! Haven’t you done enough today?” Rodney felt every last bit of control slip away. “Humiliated me enough?”

“I didn’t!” Sheppard protested, but Rodney didn’t want to hear it. He wrenched away and stomped to his quarters. Going inside, he put his pudding on his desk and found some old coffee to wash down the pain pill. It had to help. The city hated him, Sheppard laughed at him, his lab had been destroyed, and even pudding couldn’t make it better at this point.

He toed his shoes off, sat on the edge of his bed, and rubbed his forehead. There was a noise in the corridor outside his room, and he half-expected Sheppard to barge in for another round of ‘Let’s humiliate Rodney.’ One thing was certain: Sheppard wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. Rodney had to come up with a solution to the problem or beg a Wraith to eat him, and the latter didn’t really appeal.

“Shit,” Rodney whispered. Here, in Atlantis, there was always something new to learn. Granted, he usually only had five minutes before something really bad happened to pick up an entirely new science. If Sheppard wasn’t in a hurry, it might be something Rodney could look into doing. He flopped back on the bed and groaned. Damn, he was easy.

**********

The pudding was still there when Rodney rolled out of bed. He hadn’t slept, but he’d stared at the ceiling for hours. That should count for something. He found a spoon and took the pudding back to bed. Sitting right in the middle with his legs crossed like a small child, he ate it. The creamy goodness comforted his soul. Contrary to what Zelenka thought, he did have one.

“Maybe I can avoid him.” Rodney always talked to himself. Who else was smart enough to answer intelligently? He sighed and considered licking the container. “I could hide.” Turning the spoon around, he used the other end to dig out the corners. “I am so screwed.” He was. Tossing the spoon aside, he let his tongue have its way with the container. When there was nothing left, he sighed sadly. “A day that begins with pudding has to be good.”

His door opened to reveal Sheppard.

“Heard of knocking?” Rodney revised his estimate of the day.

“Heard of napkins?”

“I was going to avoid you today.”

“I know. That’s why I got here early.” Sheppard grinned in that way that was mildly infuriating. He finally walked inside and the door shut behind him. “You really get into your food.”

Rodney slowly got off the bed. He needed a shower, a shave, and a healthy dose of patience, or someone was going to be ritualistically murdered with small screwdrivers better suited for fixing laptops, but he’d make do.

“Are you going to yell now?”

“No.” Rodney didn’t give him the satisfaction of wiping the pudding off. “If I say I’ll work on it, will you go away?”

“Is your eye going to twitch when you say it?” Sheppard didn’t look convinced.

Rodney leaned against the door and then jerked away. He wasn’t playing that game again. “I just need to do some research, which requires quiet and the lack of your presence.”

“A shower might be good too.” Sheppard wasn’t leaving. He should be, but he wasn’t. “I can help with the project.”

“I’m sure you will. Now, please, get the hell out!” Rodney didn’t gesture wildly. He didn’t even point. He just waited for the sound of him leaving.

Sheppard opened the door. “I’ll bring power bars.” He didn’t look back, and Rodney re-locked the door with a thought. Stupid Atlantis let Sheppard go anywhere. Rodney went to shower. He still had to face the condition of his lab and probably Carson, and it wasn’t as if Sheppard would go away. He’d be back.

The water never did get hot. It made it just past cold and then quit. He took the fastest shower of his life, cursing the entire time. Drying off, he shivered and hurried to his clothes. The wall dresser didn’t open. He was so not surprised that he kicked it in irritation.

“What do you want from me?” he yelled to the walls in general and the city in specific. He might’ve imagined the low-level hum, but he didn’t think so, and he dressed in yesterday’s clothes very reluctantly. “This is gross. You know I hate dirt.”

He cast a long look at the door and had a very bad feeling about his chances of getting out of here. Shrugging into his TAC vest, he activated the radio.

“Radek?”

“Rodney, the lab is better. Are you on your way?”

“I hope so.” Rodney clicked off so he didn’t have to explain and made sure he had power bars – enough to last him a week – and his laptop and anything else he might need today. And no touching walls with both hands. He took a very deep breath and headed for the door.

There was a long moment where he thought he was going back for his gun to blast a hole and then it stuttered open. He jumped through and it snapped shut so fast that he made sure the back of his pants were intact.

“Hate you right back,” he muttered and started for the lab at a brisk walk. He was going to need massive amounts of coffee to get through this day. Unfortunately, all they had was some native crap that tasted like tree bark. Luckily, if he could manage to swallow a cup or two, he’d be caffeinated for a week.

“Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard, please report to Dr. Weir’s office.”

“Crap,” Rodney muttered and eyed the transporter. Atlantis was after him for something, and until he figured out what it was, he was better off taking the stairs. He trudged up enough flights to make his legs quiver. Foul didn’t begin to describe his mood today, and as he staggered the last distance in the control room, he saw Chuck swallow hard in fear, but even that didn’t help.

Determined to get this over with and go hide in his lab, he straightened his shoulders and barreled straight for Elizabeth’s office, he didn’t slow down until his back was firmly nestled into the floor. “Ow,” he said, too tired to yell.

“Rodney!” Elizabeth wasn’t trying to help him up.

Sheppard squatted down on the other side. “Gotta watch for those doors.”

“Oh, very funny!” Rodney rolled to his side. “Just leave me here for the day. I’ll be fine.” He gingerly felt his face. It hurt. “Am I bleeding?”

“No.” Sheppard looked him up and down. “But you _are_ going to have a mark on your forehead. You gotta slow down, buddy. Give the door time to open.”

“She hates me. She hates me. She hates me.” Rodney rubbed his forehead and struggled up, pushing away grabby hands. “Is this meeting important or can I go now?”

Elizabeth herded him to a chair. “Sit down. Take a deep breath. John, why don’t you go try to hit Teyla with sticks or something?”

“Yes, yes, please.” Rodney couldn’t seem to look at him. Elizabeth pulled a chair up alongside, and her look was sympathetic, but he had the feeling she wanted something, again. He sighed. “What?”

She smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

“In general or in specific? Because my head hurts, I’m hungry, haven’t had coffee yet, my legs ache, and I’m sure the city is trying to kill me.” Rodney watched her smile turn brittle. “Really!”

There was a long moment of very awkward silence. She folded her hands on her knee. “Rodney, I think yesterday’s ordeal took more out of you than we realized. First, I want you to go to the infirmary and get a couple of Tylenol. Secondly, no lab work today. Why don’t you get with John and putter with that little project he’s interested in you doing?”

Rodney went ahead and groaned very loudly. “But!” He could see by her face that he’d already lost, but he had to try. “I’m the CSO! I shouldn’t be reduced to pool boy! Get a botanist to do it!”

“I’m not asking.” Elizabeth’s voice turned firm. “I think the stress is getting to you.”

He could only stare open-mouthed. Yes, he’d already decided to do it, if for no other reason than he wanted to push Sheppard in, but he was fine. “If I were going to have a breakdown, I’d do it right before a Wraith ate me!”

“I’m not so sure of that. Two days. No lab. I’ll tell Carson you’re on your way.”

Screeching at her again would earn him another day. He contented himself with a glare that would’ve killed one of his minions. “Fine.” He walked away before he said anything else, but he heard her long-suffering sigh. Yes, he was a pain in the ass. That had been firmly established yesterday. Guilt drove him back to her. “Look, I’m sorry. I just–” He couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t include Sheppard’s name and four or five curse words.

“Rodney, I understand.” She looked as if maybe she did. “Frustration isn’t just for men. Two days. Move it.”

He went, but he made sure not to mutter until he was out of ear-shot.

“Did she bust you back to Private?” Sheppard lurked right around the door, and Rodney felt his heart speed up, but in this galaxy, it took a lot to startle him. Rodney stuffed his twitching hands in his pockets and calculated how many steps and doors were between him and the infirmary. It was all bad news.

Stopping, he hunched his shoulders and idly wondered if Elizabeth was in collusion with Atlantis, forcing him to spend the day with Sheppard. “Are you busy, or do you want to work on that thing?”

Sheppard’s eyes widened. “Wow, she must’ve really yelled.”

“No, she was nice, which is much worse.” Rodney absentmindedly dug out a power bar and started to eat. “And I’m going to need coffee.” He’d rail against the universe later. The sooner he finished Sheppard’s pet project, the quicker he could go hide somewhere.

“Of course you are.”

Coffee first, and then Carson, and Rodney made no damn sure not to try to go first. His head was sore enough, and of course, Atlantis wasn’t angry at Sheppard. Never him.

“Did you hit him with one of those stick you and Teyla are always waving about?” Carson put his hands on his hips and stared at Rodney’s forehead.

“Door,” Sheppard said. “And no, I didn’t hit him with it. He accomplished that all on his own.”

Rodney sipped his coffee. He really didn’t have time for this, but if he wasn’t going to the lab, he could sit here and think as well as anywhere. “It didn’t open.” He stared down at the bark concoction that didn’t deserve the name coffee. Now, if he were really a genius, he’d invent a way to tap into the Starbucks universe. That made him smile.

“He’s freaking me out,” Sheppard whispered.

“Aye.” Carson put his hand on Rodney’s forehead. “Occasionally, he goes inside his brain and someone has to go in after him.”

“Sounds like latrine duty.”

“Um, hello! Right here!” Rodney didn’t even glance at them. “Are we done?”

“Take this.”

Rodney popped it, swallowed, and chased it with coffee. “Sheppard, find us some place to work that isn’t full of testosterone or my lab.”

Sheppard shrugged. “I do have an office.”

“Really?” Rodney got to his feet and didn’t bother complaining about his back. “Do I get to go inside?” He was genuinely curious. Sheppard had been in Rodney’s quarters and lab, but he didn’t reciprocate. “Wait. Is this a trick?”

“Rodney.”

That made him smirk, but he paid for it two seconds later when the door clipped his foot, sending him sprawling at Sheppard’s boots. Coffee splattered against the floor and wall. Banging his head on the floor was out of the question. He already had a knot on his forehead.

“Crap.”

“Did she?” Sheppard was scrubbing his mouth, trying not to laugh.

Putting his cheek on the cool floor, Rodney dipped his finger in the cooling coffee and drew a happy face on the wall. “She did. I barely got out of my quarters alive. Shall we see where she sends me in the transporter?”

“Uh, no. Unless you like swimming.”

Getting up was a lot of work, but he did it without touching the walls or Sheppard’s extended hand. This entire situation was officially out of control. Somewhere in his brain, his hard drive was chewing data, solving the problem of what she wanted, but the rest of him wanted to whimper and hide.

“Maybe you should go back to bed.”

“She won’t let me in my quarters.” Rodney was sure of that. He surveyed the mess. “Cleanup in aisle seven.”

Sheppard used his radio to get some help, and Rodney wandered away but not far. The only sure way to stay safe was to hitch his wagon – figuratively – to one John Sheppard, no matter how painful it was.

“All right. Let’s get to my office before the floor opens up and you drop into a tank full of piranha.”

“James Bond, but which one?” Rodney pondered that. He snapped his fingers. “Wait. Batman?”

Sheppard had him go first into the transporter. “It was in all the cheesy spy movies.” He pushed the button for the tower, and miraculously they ended up there. Rodney went through Sheppard’s office door carefully, but it behaved, and he slumped into the only chair in front of a large desk. There was a window, and a small balcony, and this was nice.

“Do you actually do stuff here besides nap?” There was a dearth of paperwork on the desk.

“Occasionally,” Sheppard drawled.

Rodney doubted it, but it wasn’t in his best interest to make rude noises. She was always listening, and yes, he was officially paranoid. Reaching behind him, he pulled out his laptop.

“You need a com–?” There was laughter. “Never mind. Just me being stupid.”

“Well, at least with you it’s not a permanent condition.” Rodney didn’t see the need to look at him again. He tapped his fingers restlessly on his knee. She wanted something, but what? The silence stretched, and he refused to break it, working out the details of the pool on his laptop. He wasn’t sure why he was being so stubborn but it could have been the result of feeling like a fool for the last two days.

“This is fun.”

“You can leave. Get coffee. Food. Come back.” Rodney hoped he was safe enough. He looked around nervously. “And then we’ll go look for a site. That’s going to be the hard part.” Not completely true, but he said it just in case Sheppard was mad about the coffee thing. “Why do you want a pool?”

Sheppard was silent. Rodney snuck a peek at him.

“Why not?”

A non-answer that was so Sheppard, but Rodney refused to give in so easily. “The maintenance will be daily. Someone will have to do it. It won’t be me. There is no way I can install a wave generator, and if we ever have to fly this baby anywhere, we’ll all get wet.”

“Install a drain,” Sheppard drawled. “Stress relief, wound therapy, and a small experiment that I want to do with the next Wraith we catch.”

“Sounds creepy. Remind me to skip it.” Rodney sent Carson a fast email to find out if one-third of that explanation was bullshit. “Elizabeth likes to swim, doesn’t she?”

“Yes.” That answer was short and snappy. “I’ll go get you some coffee.”

“Thank you,” Rodney said, and he meant it. Sheppard loved Elizabeth. There was no denying that, and everyone knew it. It might – might – be a pure love. A platonic love and nothing else, but it was love none the less. Rodney wasn’t sure how it had happened. Maybe Sheppard thought that Elizabeth had given him a chance when no one else would. And Elizabeth’s motivations were a mystery – she was a woman. It could be about control, or maybe she got off on it, but for Sheppard, it was real. Rodney put his laptop on the desk and went to the door that led to the balcony.

It didn’t open, so he put his hand on the sensor. “Please.”

Atlantis graciously opened it for him. He stepped out to the rail and felt as if he had to talk to her. Crazy was a good word for it. “You know he doesn’t like me. Why push us together? Are you going to do this with all the people who don’t get along?”

She was quiet. Of course. He was an idiot for talking to a city!

“Okay, so he might like me a little, but nothing else. Nothing. Sheppard will eventually marry Teyla and re-populate this galaxy with good little gene carriers.” Rodney wrapped his hands around the rail and squeezed, still talking even though it was an exercise in futility. He hated to think of them together, but it was the truth. “You should want that. It’s in your best interest, and me? I’ll be fine. There’s more to life than love, than… him.” The last word was a choked whisper that made him turn red. “Shoving my head in a wall accomplished nothing!”

The door to the balcony turned for clear glass to black, and the sheer idiocy of it all made him thump his head down on the rail. “You’re not listening to me!”

He didn’t bother to try the door. Instead, he sank down to his knees, still holding on to the rail, and stared out at the city, shining in the sun, the water so very blue, and he shivered, but not from cold. It all flickered through his heart and mind again, and he could still feel Sheppard’s groin tight up against him. She had done this to him. It was her fault that he’d even had to think about it. There was nothing she could do make Sheppard – _John_ – care for him.

“Give up. I have.”

*********

End Part 1 – Rodney’s turn

Part 2 – John’s turn

*********

John sat down almost defiantly and ate a big breakfast. He wasn’t exactly angry, but McKay’s ‘I’m smarter than thou’ routine was particularly tiresome right now. He’d thought they’d shared something yesterday that had finally cut through the bullshit. Of course, since Atlantis was continuing to terrorize him, it was possible he wasn’t thinking straight.

That made him laugh. McKay never stopped thinking. He even babbled about ZPM theory in his sleep. John knew that a little too well from one too many camping adventures. Getting various body parts stuck in a wall hadn’t diminished any of that. John was sure of it. He shoved his tray away and refused to remember the feel of McKay’s body pressed so tight. It had been accident. Atlantis – the conniving bitch – had made it happen.

She wanted something that John refused to consider. At least that was his take on the situation. It had all been too damn convenient. She had manipulated them both. He rubbed his eyes. Crazy. He was going nuts. The city wasn’t alive! But if she was, she was kicking McKay’s ass. On the surface, it was funny as hell, but the undercurrents scared him to death.

“Rodney?”

That wasn’t his name, but John answered her. “In my office, sulking and working on the pool.” He tugged his tray out of her way. “Carson said he was fine.”

“That’s good.” Elizabeth sat down, put her napkin in her lap, and took a small bite. “So, out of curiosity, why didn’t you ask someone a bit more qualified?”

John was surprised by the question and wasn’t sure of the answer. “Well.” He saw from her face that she knew he couldn’t think of a thing.

“I know he’s your go-to guy, but next time ask Zelenka who would be best,” Elizabeth preached to him. “Rodney has a lot on his plate as CSO and a member of your team.”

She was so good at the guilt, and he hated that he was so easily manipulated. “Elizabeth, you agreed with me,” he said softly, unwilling to shoulder all the blame.

“I thought he might enjoy doing a project with you. I didn’t intend for it to be a problem.” She began to eat, and he was careful to control his face. He had never considered that McKay wouldn’t do it. Oh, sure, McKay bitched and moaned, but then they always had a good time. Like when they’d set up a safe firing range. John didn’t meet her eyes. He had handled this all wrong, and then Atlantis had made it worse.

“We’ll talk later,” John said softly and left her. He’d get McKay a big breakfast and try to apologize for railroading him instead of asking. McKay probably had even thought the meeting was another attempt to strong arm him into it. It hadn’t been. They needed to change access codes – that was all. John got all of McKay’s favorites, some more coffee, and headed to his office. He hated guilt. It was his constant companion after Afghanistan, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Back at his office door, he took a deep breath before going inside. With any luck, McKay would demand more coffee and complain about John’s vast inconsideration and the need for an apology would slip away.

“McKay?” John set the tray down and furrowed his brow. He tapped his radio. “McKay?”

Nothing. This… wasn’t right. McKay’s laptop was still on, and the screensaver was flashing pictures. John wasn’t going to look, but then he did, and he smiled. McKay was such a geek.

“Rodney!” John knew he was being an idiot. She had done this, and hopefully McKay _hadn’t_ been dropped to the floor below. He reluctantly put his hand to the wall and focused tightly. “Where is he?”

The lights might’ve flickered. His eyes were drawn to the balcony door. The glass was solid black, and he hadn’t left it that way. The color faded as he watched, and he clenched his jaw at the sight. McKay was on his knees, his arms up, and his face against them. Exhaustion shown in every line of his body, and there were dark circles under his closed eyes. The knot on his forehead was also much bigger. He needed an ice pack.

“Carson, would you please have someone bring me an ice pack for McKay’s forehead?” John tapped his earpiece. He should’ve thought of it earlier.

“It goose egged out?” Carson was quick to answer.

“Yes.” John wondered if McKay could see him.

“Aye.” Carson clicked off. John moved to the door and willed it open. It didn’t budge.

John pulled his gun. “I will shoot you. Now let Rodney in!”

The door flew open so fast, they both flinched, and he grabbed McKay by the shoulder. Getting him inside was a fumbling affair, and he nearly fell down on top of him. Embarrassed, he holstered his gun and jumped clear.

“You’d really shoot her for me?” McKay scrambled into the chair, staring wide-eyed at him.

“Probably only once.” John pointed at the food. “Eat. You look like hell.”

McKay’s mouth twisted. “Thanks, Colonel Cool.” He picked up the fork and shoveled his mouth full. John ignored the insult and went around to sit across from him. The food was rapidly disappearing, and he watched the shaking of McKay’s hand fade. John saw the glances he was getting so he opened his laptop and called up the most current schematic of the city. He didn’t think they’d be putting in a pool today, but at least he’d look busy.

“Now that’s a bit of bump,” Carson said the instant he crossed the doorway. John tried to look innocent, but he didn’t think McKay was buying it. Carson lifted McKay’s eyelid and made some clucking noises. It was easy to see their familiarity, their friendship, despite the words, and John had to look away from the casually placed hands that meant nothing while he was only allowed brief slaps that were nothing but insults.

“When did you sleep last?”

John saw the skin around McKay’s right eye flinch slightly. McKay spread his hands. “I sleep fine. Now let me get back to being the colonel’s pool boy!”

Carson gave him a terrible glare. “Colonel, you didn’t mention that Rodney was unconscious when you found him.”

“He was?” John hadn’t known.

“It was mere seconds!” McKay protested.

This was a losing battle, and John knew the feeling so well. “Rodney, go with Carson. We’ll talk about this later. It can wait.” He wasn’t sure he really wanted one now. “Go.”

“But! She!” McKay’s hands flailed at the walls and ceiling. John was sure that Atlantis wouldn’t fool around with Carson. McKay’s eyes narrowed. “If she kills me, it will be your fault!”

“I’m very aware of that.” John could see confusion on Carson’s face. “Now, go. Before your doctor thinks you’re crazy. Again.” He had to add a small smirk.

McKay began a long tirade about colonels, cities, and the lack of amenities from both, but Carson dragged him out, and their voices faded as soon as the door shut behind them. John stepped out on the balcony and leaned against the rail.

“Whatever you’re thinking is wrong,” John growled at his city. Stupidity had moved into probability, and it was starting to piss him off. “Just leave Rodney alone.” He certainly didn’t expect an answer.

“Colonel?”

John touched his ear bud. “Go ahead.”

“Rodney will be here with me today,” Carson said. “Please inform Dr. Weir.”

“Will do.” John decided to go find her. He needed to move, and he moved quickly. The door stuttered, but let him out, and he took the time to glare. “Don’t even start,” he hissed.

*********

It was late, near midnight, but before he retired to his quarters, he wanted to check on McKay. The infirmary was more dark than light, and he fully expected to be able to creep in and creep out.

“Colonel.”

**  
**

John wasn’t proud that he flinched. “Carson.” He hesitated, but he knew he wasn’t fooling him. “Just checking.”

“He’s asleep. I gave him a wee bit of something.” Carson wasn’t smiling. “He’s exhausted, and frankly, he’d not making a lot of sense.”

“He thinks Atlantis is out to get him.” John didn’t even try to come up with some crazier story than the truth.

Carson’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped a little. “He’s finally lost it. It was bound to happen. The lad’s had more stress than three men.”

John slumped against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Doc, McKay might be right. Some very weird stuff is happening. I’m looking into it. Just… don’t call Heightmeyer and make sure he gets some rest.”

“Aye.” Carson looked him up and down. “We all think clearer with a bit of rest.”

That was slightly more than a hint. “I’m headed to quarters. I’ll bring McKay some breakfast in the morning.”

With a small nod, Carson returned to his patients. John did head towards his room. He hadn’t exactly lied, but there was no looking into the problem. Atlantis was going to have to get over it, and he was going to have to shut up about it or spend the next six months in Heightmeyer’s office every day. Everyone was used to a level of incoherency from McKay, but they’d put John in a rubber room fast. Being the saner one was slightly alarming. Of course, they might mark it down to being over-caffeinated and call it good.

John locked the door with a thought and began stripping for a much-needed shower. The blast of cold water made him scream like a girl. He thought off, off, damn it, off! But nothing happened, so he scrambled out and demanded the heater give him a shot of warm air. He yelped as what he was sure was Arctic air froze the already cold water droplets on his body.

“That’s more than enough!” he yelled, but the air drove him to his bed and the warmth of his covers. He wrapped up fast and shivered. “This is so not fair!” Deep in his bones, he swore he heard someone snickering. His entire room was fast becoming very cold, and he bolted for clothes. “I’ll go see him! Give me a damn break!”

It all turned off, and he was sorely tempted to put a few holes in the walls out of spite. “This is blackmail, and he’s asleep!”

The door opened, and he scrambled to get his pants up before someone saw him. Before his boots were tied, the lights went out. He headed for the infirmary before his windows exploded. No wonder McKay had acted like a zombie. John wasn’t going to apologize for that too, but Atlantis really was a bitch today.

Now the infirmary was completely silent, but he saw McKay and headed straight to him, quietly. There wasn’t a chair, and he hoped this was good enough to get the city off his back.

“You should be asleep,” John hissed, seeing the whites of McKay’s eyes.

“So should you.” McKay sounded peeved right back at him. “Why are you here?” he demanded.

John slid his hands through his frozen hair. Lying about it was ridiculous. “She insisted, and you know who I mean!” His balls were still shriveled.

McKay’s mouth dropped open a little. “She’s picking on you? You? Am I conscious?”

“People are going to think we’re nuts. You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” John growled. This wasn’t funny anymore.

“I’ll claim hypoglycemia.” McKay waved his hand and flipped it. “You have a plan yet?”

“Other than leaving the planet? No.” John crossed his arms and assumed an easy parade rest. “I’m counting on your big brain to get us out of this.”

“And what is this? Exactly?” There was that stubborn chin tilt. “And do not smack me!”

Glaring was ridiculous, but he did it. “Rodney.”

“Okay, two things. I have no idea what she wants, and after today? I’m not inclined to give it to her.” There was a charged moment of silence as they stared at each other. John sincerely hoped she wasn’t listening. He wanted to throw up his hands and leave McKay to his fate, but that was a very bad idea. She would punish them both – that was clear now.

“There’s got to be a system we could hack. A way to convince her to leave us alone,” John said softly because he wanted to yell.

McKay snorted. “Maybe she’ll listen to you. I spent most of my morning begging her to leave me alone.” His eyes opened wider and he snapped his fingers. “You could try the chair. She usually pays attention when you’re in it.”

That was an interesting idea, but he wasn’t going down there alone. She might put him in a wall. “A plan. In the morning.” He was cautiously optimistic.

“After breakfast.” McKay sounded firm on that.

“Of course.” John rolled his eyes. “You know what she wants?” He suspected McKay did.

McKay shut his eyes and rolled away. “I’m tired. Go away.” That wasn’t an answer at all, but pretty much confirmed that McKay knew all too well. John ran his hand through his wet hair and stared at McKay’s back, sighing from frustration. They were screwed.

*********

“You will play nice this morning. Rodney’s hungry,” John muttered as he headed for his door, and it did slide open obediently. He radioed Lorne first. “Major, I’m taking the day. Get with Ronon and have him torture the men for us.”

“Will do.”

Next was Carson. “Carson, I’m on my way.”

“About bloody time.” Carson clicked off immediately. John walked faster and made sure to get blue Jell-o. It wasn’t breakfast food, but McKay liked it. Carson looked relieved when John turned the corner, and McKay started snarling immediately about lazy colonels and voodoo rituals.

“Good morning to you too, Rodney.” John gave him the tray before things got nasty. While McKay ate, John drew Carson far enough away to have a private conversation. “Is he okay?”

“Fine. He’s more hypertensive than I’d like, but the sleep did him good, and the concussion was very mild.” Carson kept his voice very low. “Tell me what’s going on.”

John put on the most innocent look he could find. “I think Kavanagh was having some fun with Rodney. I’ll be speaking to him today about it. You know how weird the scientists are.”

Carson narrowed his eyes. “Kavanagh hasn’t had a physical lately.”

“No time like the present.” John smiled and went back to McKay. “Want to tell Zelenka you’re not coming in today?”

“Why would I do that?” McKay screwed up his face.

John leaned closer. “I told Carson it was Kavanagh, pulling pranks.”

McKay blinked and then laughed. “Good one. We’ll stick with that story, and yes, I will be going to my lab, as soon as you fix all this.” He was waving his fork.

“We don’t know that she’ll listen to me!” John glanced about, relieved no one was close. Frustrated, he grabbed the biscuit, dodged McKay’s hand, and took a bite. If he was chewing, he wouldn’t say ridiculous things. McKay sputtered about handsy colonels, and John interrupted him, “We need a Plan B.”

“God, how I hate those plans. It never ends well for me.” McKay was protecting his coffee. John finished the biscuit and went to see if he could mooch some coffee from Carson.

Watching McKay flail at every hum and shadow as they went towards the chair room would’ve been funnier before John had taken an ice-cold shower. “McKay, settle down. You’re making the man with the gun jumpy.”

McKay gulped audibly. “I think she’s on to us.” He looked all around frantically. John grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed.

“Breathe, Rodney.” John tried to up the lights mentally, but they weren’t responding. He gave him a small shake. “We can always gate off-world until she gets over this hare-brained idea.” Panicked, he added, “Whatever it is.”

“You really don’t understand who you’re dealing with, do you?” McKay grabbed him by the forearms. “And do you realize you’re touching me? You hate touching me. You never touch me. Oh, you smack me, but that doesn’t really count.”

John struggled not to laugh. “Are you breathing at all?” He’d focus on that instead of the touching.

“No.” McKay heaved out a huge breath. “Still, with the touching.”

Turning him loose, he stepped away. “Now breathe, and let’s get there before you have to break for lunch.” He took the glare and the huffy noise to mean that it was all better and started moving faster. Since he had the flashlight, McKay was right behind and nearly falling on him.

When the almost-pressure on his back stopped, he did too. “Rodney?”

“Had a thought.” McKay was staring at one of the Ancient’s hand-held devices that he loved. John swiveled completely around, piercing the dark with the light. He frowned and looked again.

“We’re in the wrong part of the city,” they said simultaneously. It wasn’t funny. McKay’s eyes were bigger than fifty-cent pieces. John slapped his radio, but the answering burst of static was so predictable that it was infuriating.

“This is not funny!” McKay nearly brought the roof down.

John traced their route in his mind. She’d used the transporter to send them somewhere else and then kept it so dark they didn’t notice. “Let’s not panic. You know where we are, right?” He didn’t have a clue. Reaching out to the wall, he focused, but there was no information to grab.

“I, well, don’t.” McKay’s voice went up an octave. “If she wants us dead, we’re dead. Dead!”

It was hard to disagree with that, and John began to wish he’d stayed in bed. He was starting to think they’d have to do the worst thing possible – talk. He’d rather be punched in the head by Ronon. Giving up for the moment, he slid down the wall, put the flashlight on the floor, and dug out a power bar. He hadn’t had a huge breakfast like some people.

“Your solution is to eat?”

“Isn’t it usually yours?” John mumbled around his bar. McKay grunted and sat down with the flashlight between them. Two seconds later, they were both eating. John leaned his head back and flipped the flashlight off. No reason to run down the battery. He could hear McKay breathing hard, but it smoothed out as he ate his last bite.

John’s grandpa had a saying, ‘Darker than the inside of Satan’s mouth.’ John had never understood that, but he thought he had a clue now. Shutting his eyes, he crossed his legs and waited for McKay to think of something and shout about it.

“Did you ever get lost when you were a kid?” McKay asked.

That was an interesting question. “Believe it or not, the first time I ever got lost was with you. I have this theory that your constant talking compromises my internal compass.”

A raw chuckle came through the dark. “We should do some simulations.”

“We could get Zelenka to help.” John smiled. He didn’t open his eyes, making this conversation easier. The darker the better. “You ever been lost?”

“I was eight. We were at the mall. God, I hate malls.” McKay paused. “I still think they weren’t looking for me.”

John tried hard not to feel sorry for the child McKay had been. “You shouldn’t have stopped to look at the lingerie.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t have.” McKay moved, and their shoulders brushed. “Seriously, I stopped to look at the models. Two seconds later, I was alone.”

“Lingerie models?” John had to go for the lame joke.

McKay laughed softly. “I was not a perv at age eight! Ten, I was ten when it all kicked in. Spaceship models. It was the Apollo 13. I wanted it bad.”

“Not the Enterprise?” John could see it all in his mind. He moved the flashlight to the other side, and they were that much closer. No reason to be alone in the dark.

“Had one.” McKay had to be smiling. “I still love the smell of airplane glue.”

“Who doesn’t?” John wiped his hands on his BDU’s and resisted resting one on McKay’s thigh – for his comfort, of course. “I had planes mostly.” He tried to remember. “A few cars.” He kept on talking into the dark. “How long before they found you?”

McKay’s hand fumbled into John’s leg. “Sorry.” He sounded mortified, and John stiffened from shame. Shame that he’d made McKay so paranoid about touching him. It really wasn’t all that big of a deal.

“The mall?” John tried to sound nice. He was curious how this story ended, and there was no reason to rush off into the dark.

“Oh, yes.” McKay edged away. “There was a policeman, well, a security guard–” He broke off.

John wasn’t going to scoot after him, but why was he leaving? Shaking his head, he focused on the story. “And?” he drawled.

“He had a gun. I was scared. Stupid, I know, but all I could see was that big gun. I ran the other way.” McKay’s voice was very quiet. “I used a process of elimination to find them. Jeannie was relieved.”

The omission of his parents said it all. John could picture it clearly. “Guns are scary.” He rushed on before McKay thought it was an insult, “Glad you found your way. Now, think you can get us home?”

“Follow the bread crumbs,” McKay grumbled. John picked up the flashlight, flicked it on, and stuck out his hand. McKay ignored it and levered his way up without touching the walls – a good precaution. John stared at his hand for a moment, feeling insulted. Funny how it had never bothered him before, not that he usually offered. It was at that moment that the flashlight flickered and went dead. He could only sigh. It was par for the course now.

“John?”

The word was soft and low with a small trace of panic laced through it, and John reached for where McKay had been. Nothing. John frowned and took a step. “I’m right here. Don’t move.” For some reason, McKay screaming, ranting, and raving would’ve made this all easier. “Rodney.”

“I’m looking for my happy place.”

“Well, start looking for the way out!” John slapped for the back of McKay’s head and connected effortlessly.

“Ow!” McKay’s hand wrapped into John’s TAC vest. “Couldn’t you just ask her to turn the lights on?”

“Oh, yeah, like that’ll work!” John took a step, tripped, and ended up practically knocking McKay down. Clutching hard, he forced them both upright. “Stop squawking like a chicken!”

“I am a chicken!” McKay’s hands were everywhere. John pushed him against the wall and held him there. McKay stopped moving, but he was still panting. “Could it get any darker?”

John realized his own breath wasn’t exactly calm. “Just stand there for a second.” He took his hands away, wished that he hadn’t, and wasn’t sure about putting them back. “Geez.”

“This is your idea of hell, isn’t it? Probably as bad as being trapped in my brain.” McKay wasn’t calm, at all.

“Nothing could be as bad as that,” John drawled, trying to take the panic out of the situation. He forced himself to breathe slowly.

“Well, this _is_ hell for me,” McKay spat.

Asking why was a bad idea, and John just grunted as if he understood, which he didn’t. “Let’s just go that way until we hit something like stairs or a ladder. Up is the right direction.”

“So dead,” McKay whispered. He snapped his fingers several times. That was good news. John waited to hear the brilliant idea. Silence. Dark. Still not good.

“What?” John yelled.

“I got nothing, but I’m going that way until I die of thirst.” McKay shuffled down the wall. John could hear it. He tried to grab him, but there was nothing, and he ground his teeth frustration.

“Damn it, McKay. Do not do this me.” John slapped the wall and started after him. Screaming at the city was becoming more and more a real possibility. “Wait!”

McKay chuckled, but it was not a happy sound. “So I can rot down here while we exchange stories about my pathetic childhood, with you wincing every time I happen to brush against you, and being forcibly reminded that you will never like me? No!”

Lunging, John caught him by the vest. “I like you, damn it!” He wanted to bite his own tongue off. He’d rather face Wraith than how he felt. “You know I’m not exactly good with words.”

“It isn’t the damn words! It’s the looks, the way you avoid me, and nearly retch whenever I make the mistake of touching you!” McKay slammed his fist into John’s chest. “I’m done. Do you hear me? I am so done!”

Without thinking, John punched at him, his knuckles skidding across McKay’s face. The floor roiled underneath them, and they dropped. The landing drove the air from his lungs and made him realize what an idiot he was being. He clamped his mouth shut around the natural urge to gasp. Blackness reached up and took him down hard.

*********

“We’ve got him!”

John tried to tell them he was fine, but all that came out of his mouth was water. He struggled weakly. Hands held him down, not that it took much.

“So much blood!”

“It’s a head wound, Rodney.”

Shivering, John forced his eyes to focus on him. McKay – on his knees – covered with blood, dripping and gasping. Carson stepped right in John’s way, and it all faded again.

*********

Warm. It was nice. He snuggled deeper and sighed happily. It was good to be home. Some missions were just hell, and that had to have been one of them, but he was safe now.

“How do you feel, Colonel?”

John bolted up, but Carson caught him. “Rodney?” He remembered the blood. Carson eased him back down gently.

“He’s asleep behind you.” Carson smiled.

“Not asleep anymore,” McKay grumbled. John twisted enough to see him as he sat upright with a strange expression on his face. “You’re okay?” The question was harsh.

“I told you he’d be fine a dozen times!”

Squirming a little, John wanted to slap Carson’s hand away from his chest, but he could only stare. McKay was fine, even cranky. That didn’t seem right. John wiggled. “Hey, I’m naked here, and what about all the blood?”

“He’s naked?”

“It was your blood, lad,” Carson said gently. “You have a robe on, and hold still while I look you over.”

His muddled brain was having a hard time processing it all, and that was when he realized that his head hurt like hell. “Crap.” He stopped wiggling and went boneless.

“Is he dying? You said he’d be fine!” McKay’s voice could’ve broken glass.

“Rodney, be quiet or I’m sedating you. Again!” Carson caught John by the face and shined a light in his eyes, flicking it back and forth. “Nauseous? Pain?”

“Yeah,” John said reluctantly. He remembered falling, nothing after that. “How did you find us?”

McKay made a strangled noise, and Carson waved at him to answer. “My radio transmitted a city-wide distress call.”

“It still took us a wee bit to get down there.” Carson tucked the sheet and cover around him. “Rest, now.”

“I guess we found our swimming pool,” John said weakly. He was tired and very disgusted with his city. For him, it seemed like a blink and Teyla and Ronon were standing near his bed. “Hey.” He tried to sound strong, but it was a croak.

“Look like hell, Sheppard.”

“How are you feeling, John?”

John laughed as much as he was able. “Good. I just _look_ like hell. Rodney says I’m fine.”

“I did not!” McKay was so good with the indignant. “I thought you were dead.” That was a bare whisper, and John went ahead and felt guilty.

“You were very brave, Rodney. I didn’t realize that you could swim.” Teyla was calm as ever, but John could see the worry in her eyes.

Looking from each of their faces, he began to wonder what exactly had happened. “I remember the water.”

“Deep.” Ronon glanced at McKay. “Good thing McKay knew what to do.”

“You did?” John made sure his jaw didn’t drop. Sure, they saved each other’s lives occasionally, but this was more than usual.

“I know what to do in every emergency situation.” McKay said with a certain amount of disgust in his voice. “They seem to come up with you quite regularly.”

“Cool.” John went with that because it would make McKay snort. He did.

“Dr. McKay held your face out of the water until help could arrive.” Teyla patted John’s arm. “That part of the city is highly unstable. What were you doing?”

John had no idea what to say. He looked at McKay, who rolled the other direction, making it clear that he was not participating in this conversation. “We were on our way to the chair, and somehow we got re-routed.”

“Lost.” Ronon managed to make it sound as if it happened all the time.

It didn’t. Damn it.

Teyla looked sympathetic. “Rest. Perhaps Dr. Zelenka could check on the transporters.”

“He was here earlier. I impressed that upon him.” McKay’s voice was muffled. “Not that it’ll do any good, but at least I got to yell.”

“Wow, I must have been unconscious.” John rolled his eyes for Teyla and Ronon. “Ronon, keep my guys busy. I’ll be around tomorrow.”

Neither of them looked as if they believed that, and even McKay made a noise of disbelief. Carson came up behind them.

“Time’s up.” Carson shooed them out, and John wished he could leave with them. He glanced over at McKay. They exchanged a very cautious look.

“Thanks,” John said softly because he had to say something. “Atlantis really kicked my ass.”

McKay looked thoughtful. “My turn to save it, and I don’t think all this was part of her plan.”

John would like to think his city wasn’t trying to kill him, but the pain in his head made him skeptical. “Why?”

“When’s the last time your radio worked when it was sopping wet?” McKay asked with just a tinge of sarcasm. “I think Wraith in the next system over heard me yelling for help.”

“I hope to hell not.” John forced himself to laugh, but it was weird in a creepy way, not in a good way. He took a deep breath. “Think she’ll lay off now?” he whispered.

McKay was frowning and glaring. “She better. You could’ve died! The bitch.” He mumbled the last two words. John wanted to smack him. They had to watch what they said or they might be catapulted somewhere really unpleasant next time.

“Stupid plan anyway,” McKay said. The words were so soft that they’d have been easy to miss, and John decided to pretend he hadn’t heard them, but he agreed. He did. There was no way that was happening. Whatever it was. Shutting his eyes, he refused to remember the feel of McKay pressed against him. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Eventually, he slept.

*********

“No.”

“Aye!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are ya daft, lad?”

“No, but yes, well, maybe. However, the answer is still no.”

Without looking, John reached and snagged Carson by the arm. “Please, make him shut up.”

“Rodney, please.”

“No.”

John just knew that stubborn chin was lifting and the blue eyes were blazing defiantly. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. “Carson, what does he want?”

“He doesn’t want to leave!” Carson was indignant; his Scottish temper showing, or at least that was what McKay always said. John rubbed his eyes and forced himself completely awake. McKay turned enough that their eyes clashed, and John saw the raw worry in them. He saw the conflict, and it scared him more than Wraith queens.

“Carson, why don’t you let Rodney help me back to my room? You are releasing me today, right?”

Carson sputtered in a language that always made Teyla cock her head and then slumped his shoulders. “Aye. I was. But you must rest. No duties whatsoever.”

“I promise. My head feels like it’s full of goo.” John saw McKay’s small nod of what might have been relief. “Rodney, why don’t you go get us some breakfast, enough for me too, and let Carson’s blood pressure come down into the normal range?”

There was no answer but McKay rounded his shoulders, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went out the door. It was Carson who sighed. “Would you mind telling me what the bloody hell is going on?”

It would make them both sound crazy. But John considered doing it. He very gently brushed his hair back and said, “Carson, when I figure it out, I’ll come tell you. McKay and I need to talk, and believe me when I say neither of us wants to do that.”

Carson furrowed his brow and sighed again. “Things are rarely easy with Rodney. For a man who talks almost non-stop, he rarely says what he’s really thinking.

“And you don’t talk at all.”

That was very hard to argue with, so John let it slide. “He really saved my life.”

“Now that he did. There was no way to get out of the pool so he treaded water while holding your face up until we got there. Of course, Ronon got there first. He was able to reach down and grab your vest. At that point, Rodney nearly drowned from fatigue.”

John blinked. “Wow.”

“You both scared the hell out of us. Now, do me the favor of not wandering off for a week or two and I’ll let you go to your quarters.” Carson snapped on some gloves, and John knew what that meant. Time to lie and say he was fine and get out of here. He was going to need some clothes. Carson drew away and pulled off the gloves. “You’ll do. Come see me tomorrow.”

“Clothes?” John hoped he didn’t have to walk to his quarters with his butt hanging out. McKay came in with his usual fanfare of complaints about the food, and it made John smile.

“What are you happy about?” McKay demanded as he sat the trays down and started fussing.

John went for the joke. “I’m naked.”

McKay flipped a fork the length of the infirmary, and John smirked as red began seeping up the length of McKay’s neck. “That’s disturbing in so many ways.”

“I’ll get you some scrubs and a T-shirt.” Carson was chuckling. “Eat your breakfast.”

The food looked fine, but he wasn’t all that hungry. McKay ate as if it was his last meal, no change from the usual. He pointed with his spoon. “You should eat. She might kill us today.”

“Now that’s encouraging.” John glanced at Carson and wondered how little he could get away with, but he did eat some more. “I need the day off from her agenda.”

“Getting some work done would be an anomaly.” McKay rolled his eyes. John could see right through the bravado to the fear. The fear was a problem. McKay should be angry, not scared. He should be ranting and raving and kicking the walls, but he was subdued, for him, and looking at John with big eyes.

Waiting until Carson was out of earshot, John whispered, “Going to the lab?”

“Are you crazy? She’ll kill me!” McKay didn’t whisper. “I have no desire to be dead!”

“You said it wasn’t her. Go to the lab. Relax.” John did his best to act casual. “Let’s pretend we don’t know what we know and then maybe she won’t know we know and she’ll leave us alone.”

McKay’s mouth fell open. “My God, that head injury turned you into an idiot. Good news! You’ll finally fit in the Armed Services!”

John flopped back and wished he hadn’t. “Carson, I want clothes, and I want out of here!” He pushed the food away and swung his legs over the bed, ignoring McKay’s choking noises. Shoving the robe down, he caught the T-shirt that Carson hastily threw at him. He didn’t look at anyone, just put it on and waited for the scrubs.

“I’ll wait by the door,” McKay coughed out. John shrugged and got to his feet, but slowly, waiting to see if the room would spin. It didn’t. He took a measured breath and slipped into the scrubs.

Carson’s eyebrows were up.

“Like you haven’t examined it before,” John drawled. He’d never been exactly shy about his body. That was McKay’s job, and he did it very well. John did a slow stretch and looked at his feet. “Boots?”

“Ruined.” Carson was looking him up and down. “You’ll do. I’ll make a house call tonight.”

“I thought you hated those.”

“Aye. I do.” Carson grinned. “Eat, sleep, repeat.”

“Shower?” John surveyed the remains of the breakfast trays and grabbed up his coffee.

Carson nodded. “But have someone close, in case you get dizzy.”

“Maybe I’ll skip it. I was wet enough yesterday.” John carefully walked towards the door. He’d had enough head injuries to know that it was never good to push it. Taking a small sip, he stopped by McKay. “My gun?”

“Ronon took your vest and gun. Said he’d fix it.” McKay was staring at the floor. “Back of your head looks stupid.”

John had figured that out, but it still made him smile. “Matches the front now.” They started walking, and he saw McKay’s hand come up and flutter but then drop away. “Hope you don’t expect me to save your butt any time soon.”

“It can wait a day or two,” McKay said quietly. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We were lucky.”

That deserved a laugh – a big one, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “Our kind of luck would kill normal people.” He was so glad they weren’t normal. “You okay?”

McKay took an audible deep breath. “I should launch into a tirade, but I’m too tired. Yeah, I’m fine.” He sounded slightly disappointed in himself. John clapped him on the shoulder to comfort him. The silence was deep and full of words that John knew he’d never be able to say. They stopped at the door to John’s quarters.

“Are you coming inside?” John realized from the blink of McKay’s eyes that he’d surprised him. McKay bit his lower lip and then backed away. John’s door opened without a command, and he had to try again. “Just for a minute, and I’ll fall asleep.” He would. He was tired, and he knew by this evening, he’d be dealing with Weir, Lorne, and Ronon.

“You never–” McKay breaks off. He narrows his eyes. “Why now?”

John doesn’t want to answer that, and he won’t. She can make him do a lot of things, but not that. He leaned into the hand that’s resting on the doorframe. It’s never easy for him to say anything important. The therapist had blamed John’s father, but she’d overlooked the lesson inside the silence. It was damn hard to be hurt if he never made it real with words. He looked down at his feet and felt his knees wobble.

“Oh, God. You’re going to pass out.” McKay instantly helped him through the door. He was glad to feel the arm around him, and he leaned heavily until the bed was right there. Dropping onto it, he groaned and lay back flat. That hurt, so he shifted to his side. McKay looked worried. His hands were moving fast. “Colonel? Do you need anything?”

“Thanks,” John said softly, wishing someone on this base would call him ‘John’ occasionally. His eyes shut without permission, and he was out.

*********

Someone pecked at the inside of his brain. He was sure of it. He could hear the noise clearly, and the pain reassured him that he wasn’t crazy. “Go away,” he mumbled.

“Well, that was clear enough.”

That was McKay’s voice. John was glad the chickens had stopped. He fumbled up, nearly retched, and sat on his ass to rub his face. “You’re here? I thought you were in the lab.” He wished his tongue wasn’t three sizes too big for his mouth. “You always are this time of day.”

“Are you stalking me?”

John uncrossed his eyes and realized he’d been talking, a mistake. He immediately lay down again and shut his eyes. Thirst could wait. He had to sleep.

*********

“Drink, please.”

John obeyed before he thought about it. He was dreaming anyway. It was okay to follow orders in his dreams. The water was good, and he gulped it, uncaring when it spilled down the side of his throat. Through slits he saw McKay, but it wasn’t really him. He was never here – not in this place.

“Weird dream.” John felt as if he were panting. He could feel McKay’s hands on him and that was wrong, not right, because they didn’t do that. Another bit of evidence that he was dreaming. “Don’t worry. I’ll never tell them you were here.”

“I’m so relieved.” McKay adjusted the covers. John smiled and burrowed deeper. He liked dreams with McKay in them.

*********

Quiet. Blessed quiet. It wasn’t that Atlantis was noisy, but she did hum quite a bit when he walked through her halls, and occasionally he wanted to go on a mission just to empty his head. Just to feel… like John again, instead of a light switch. That wasn’t quite right. It was more like he was a conduit, and it got old. Sure, it was pretty and cool and all that stuff, but it wasn’t him. Okay, it was, but not the parts that mattered.

“Awake again?”

“Yeah.” John suddenly realized who was in his room and sat bolt upright. “What the hell?” He made absolutely sure he wasn’t naked.

McKay clenched his jaw. “Your virginity is intact.” The disgust dripped, and John hated that he actually flinched. McKay suddenly turned away, gathering equipment. “I’m out of here.” He moved fast; his face turned away.

John’s head wanted to explode. “Is it safe?” he croaked.

“I no longer care.” And McKay was gone. The door banged shut behind him, and John could only stare. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but it hadn’t been good. A wall was within reach, and he put his palm against it. Focusing with every brain cell he had left, he listened.

_Don’t hurt him._

The city hummed, and the lights blinked once. He shut his eyes and tried again.

 _Give up. I have. He has._ John’s eyes shot open as the truth of what he was doing to McKay crashed into him. _Please._ He didn’t know why he said that, and he hunched over. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, he grew angry that she’d done this to him. Made him face this truth. She should’ve left well enough alone. They’d have gotten over it eventually. He probably would’ve died on a mission, taking care of the problem neatly. Something would’ve happened, and he never would have seen the devastation that hopelessness wrought in Rodney McKay. _Rodney._

John dropped his face into his hands.

“John?”

He didn’t want to look, but duty called. “Hello, Elizabeth. Come to make fun of my hair?”

She smiled a little. “I’ll leave that for Rodney, but how are you feeling?”

“Not bad.” John leaned back on his arms. He could feel the slight tremble in them. “Anything you need to tell me?”

“Nothing you can’t handle when Carson signs off.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “More importantly, is there anything you need to share with me?”

He could imagine the conversation clearly, and that’s why he’d never say a word about it. “I could use some Tylenol?”

“So you and Rodney were on an unauthorized search?” She didn’t approve of that – that was clear by her tone.

“We were going to the chair and ran afoul of a glitch in the transporter.” John rubbed his forehead. He was not discussing his – he didn’t even like thinking the word – _feelings_ with Elizabeth. “The flashlight went dead, the floor collapsed, and McKay has more emergency skills than anyone knew about.”

“Then I have no reason to worry that my top two people in Atlantis are going to do something foolish?” Her eyebrows were up, and she looked worried in that mother hen way. “Like resign?”

“Oh, why the hell would we do that?” John demanded angrily and then his memory shoved at him the sight of Rodney on the balcony, his face blazing with grief. Elizabeth just looked at him. He swallowed nothing and found a more reasonable answer. “I’m not even thinking that direction. I don’t think McKay is either.”

“I hope not,” Elizabeth said softly. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks.” That was all he could think to say. He had to get in front of this or Rodney may say something in anger that couldn’t be taken back. She nodded and left, and he scrambled for his radio. Tuning it to the team channel, he tried not to sound worried. “Teyla? Ronon?”

“Here,” Ronon replied. “Teyla is on the mainland.”

“Get to Rodney before Elizabeth does. Bring him here – quietly. Move.” John had faith that Ronon was already moving. If anyone could salvage this, it was him.

Getting up slowly, John went to get some Tylenol and take a piss. He washed his hands, leaning against the wall. This was coming to a head. Atlantis had pushed them too far. Every military man knew when things were going south, and there’d be snowballs flying in hell damn soon. He swiped his wet fingers through his hair, wincing slightly. The way he saw it, this could go two ways. In the first scenario, one of them punched the other in the face, and in the other; well, things were worse. He leaned against the wall and groaned. He’d already punched Rodney in the face. Not hard, but it was the thought that counted.

“Unhand me, you barbarian!”

John heard them in the hall and opened the door with a thought. Ronon came in right behind Rodney.

“I never touched him.”

“You so did!” Rodney waved his arms very energetically.

“And Elizabeth?” John was more worried about her.

“We missed her.”

“That’s when he clapped his huge hand over my mouth!”

“Good job, Ronon.” John stopped Rodney’s next complaint in its tracks. “Elizabeth is thinking one of us is going to resign. She came here first. I sent Ronon to pull you out of harm’s way.”

“Oh.” Rodney raised his hand as if to shake his finger but then stopped. “She thinks that?”

“Ronon, I hate to ask, but could you go get me a tray of food and about a gallon of something to drink?” John knew he couldn’t make it to the cafeteria without a wheelchair. “Please?”

“Not a problem.” Ronon was gone quickly, and Rodney cast a quick look after him so John locked the door. They had to talk – a little – at least clear the air enough that Elizabeth would be satisfied with their lies. “Rodney, she might possibly think we’ve begun to… dislike each other. I couldn’t take a chance you’d go all crazy and she’d do something stupid.”

“Like transfer you to Earth. Not that you’d go, but it could happen. Caldwell would love it.” Rodney put his hands on his hips.

John slumped down on the small couch. “Actually, I was more worried about you.”

Rodney’s mouth opened and shut several times. “She’d never.” He didn’t sound convinced. “We, uh, don’t have to go that far, right? I’ll stay in my lab more, and you’re always doing that military thing. We’re good, right?”

“You’re on my team,” John ground out, surprised at his visceral reaction to seeing less of him. He didn’t like the wild look in Rodney’s eyes. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. “And what about her?” He made a gesture that encompassed the city. “You think this is over?”

“It better be!” Rodney raged. “Another five minutes and we’d have died! And you know drowning is my least favorite way to die!”

“I thought death by lemons was at the top of the list?” John tried not to smile, but it leaked out.

The glare could’ve made wallpaper fall down. “Wraith, drowning, lemons. Try to remember.” Rodney’s jaw was popping. “Are you going to leave me? I mean, uh, this?” His hands were shaking, and John focused on that for a moment. No one knew Rodney better than him. Not Elizabeth, not Sam Carter, not Carson, no one.

Deep in his bones, he could suddenly feel a slight hum. He got to his feet and took a small step, reaching. The shock as their hands met made his blood spark, and he would’ve sworn he heard a bell ring. Rodney’s breath was harsh, and his eyes couldn’t get any wider. John listened, trying to understand. Another moment, and it all snapped together so easily.

“You–” Rodney lowered his head and stared at their hands. “This–”

John didn’t turn loose. “How about you stop talking?”

“I can do that,” Rodney whispered. They shared a small laugh as they both knew it wouldn’t happen. John tugged and leaned on him enough to get back to the bed. Rodney helped him get settled in a position where he could eat. Rodney ducked his head, smiling. “I’ll go reassure Elizabeth.”

“Good. I’ll stay here.” John would let him go. He’d be back. They understood each other now, and they’d gotten there without a lot of talking. It was almost a miracle. He leaned his head back and tried to rest. It seemed like two seconds later that Ronon put a tray on him.

“Eat.”

“Sure.” John picked up the fork. “Sit down. Talk to me.”

Ronon blinked, but he sprawled on the floor. Reminding him about the couch was a waste of time. He pulled a knife from behind him and started cleaning his nails. “Bored. Haven’t killed anything in days.”

“That is a shame.” John never knew if Ronon was joking. “You could go hunting.” He’d love some steak, smothered in mushrooms. “Bring home the bacon.” He saw the look Ronon gave him. “This isn’t a prison. Go. Come back.”

“It’s hard.” Ronon stopped for a moment. “Not to run.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” John ate until his stomach groaned. He put the tray on the floor and concentrated on drinking the tea-like stuff. It wasn’t bad. “Hey, have you been to the planet with all the wild kids yet?”

Ronon frowned. “No.”

“Well, go. They’re good with those bows and arrows. Have some fun. It’ll be at least a week before Carson lets me go anywhere but my office.” He knew that for a fact. “Be careful though. They might braid your hair.”

Rodney practically burst through the door, screeching to a halt. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll, uh–”

“Sit down, McKay,” John growled, glad he was back. “Ronon needs a vacation. I’m thinking the wild kid planet.”

“Hey! You’ll like them. A bunch of little savages. Make sure to ask Zelenka if he wants to go.” Rodney smiled, and John tried not to laugh.

“Okay.” Ronon got to his feet. “I’ll bring home some bacon.”

“God, I love bacon.” McKay practically swooned. “Cook it thoroughly. Smoke it if you can.”

John grinned but wasn’t quite finished. “Take your radio and check in regularly. That’s an order.”

“And take chocolate. They love chocolate.” Rodney snapped his fingers several times. “And ask them if they’re ready to abandon those ridiculous tree houses and live on the ground like normal people.”

“Treehouses?” Ronon slid the knife back into its hiding place. “Later.”

“Have fun,” John said to the big guy’s back. The door slid shut, and they were smiling at each other. It was Rodney who looked away first. John drank some more tea. He had no idea what to say, but usually that wasn’t a problem.

Rodney picked up the tray on the floor. “I’ll take this back. You want anything else?”

“Nah. Thanks.” John wasn’t going to ask him to come back. It was Rodney’s choice. As Rodney went out, Carson was there to come inside.

“You ate?” Carson stopped Rodney from leaving. “When you come back, I’ll take your blood pressure.”

“But, I wasn’t–” Rodney rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be back in a minute. I need coffee.”

Rodney was a terrible liar. Everyone knew it. That had been the truth. As bad as Rodney was at lying, John was even worse at relationships. This was doomed to failure. The image of the Death Star exploding blazoned its way across his eyelids.

“How are you feeling?” Carson perched on the edge of the bed. He already had his stethoscope in his ears.

“I’m good.” John was trying not to think, but it was all running around in his brain like headless chickens. He took several deep breaths as directed.

Carson glanced up, and their eyes met. “You look as if you’ve been hit with a Wraith stunner.”

“Pretty accurate.” John made sure his mouth didn’t sag open any longer. “I took some Tylenol, but can you give me something better?”

“Aye.” Carson took John by the ear and started examining the cut. “Antibiotics for ten days. Drink and eat as much as you can, and rest. Was Rodney keeping you awake?”

Resisting the urge to push the doctor away, John stayed still. He didn’t want to talk about Rodney, but he had to say something. “He’s okay, right?”

“His blood pressure is through the roof, but he wasna injured in the fall.” Carson smiled and encouraged him flat again. “Is he complaining?”

“I never complain. I simply tell the truth,” Rodney said as he came through the door, and he usually said that sort of thing sarcastically, but really, he just sounded worried. John tried to smile with his eyes because he was clenching his jaw. When he didn’t know what to say, it was better not to say anything – take what comes and wait for the silence again.

“Is he okay? He didn’t drink all that much, and I thought maybe he had a fever. Mostly, he slept and mumbled insults.” Rodney’s eyes were darting about and his hands never stopped. John noticed again the dark circles and slumped shoulders. He wasn’t the only one who was worn out.

Carson shooed Rodney onto the couch and gave him a good look. John watched but didn’t comment as they bickered back in forth in a rhythm that was well-worn. They were friends, and it showed clearly. It made John wonder what people saw when he and Rodney were hanging out together. Maybe he could ask Teyla, and maybe Wraith would become vegetarians, sucking the life out of tomatoes instead of people.

“Here, lad,” Carson said, pulling John out of his daydream. “Come see me after you get around tomorrow. Don’t bring Rodney.”

John swallowed the pill and nodded. Carson gathered his instruments of voodoo – Rodney’s description – and left them both after another warning. Rodney took an abortive step towards the door, and John shut it fast.

“I thought–” Rodney pressed his lips together.

“Finish sentences much lately?” John had to tease him and enjoyed the evil eyes that glared. “Did my blow to the head make you stupid?”

“I – I – you – you’re not nice!” Rodney kept the glare for one more second and then began to laugh. “I think that’s why I like you.”

They laughed together, neither of them loudly. John scooted a little lower on the bed and relaxed. All of the sudden, his eyes refused to stay open any longer. He felt as if he should say something. “Breakfast, tomorrow?”

“If you want.” Rodney didn’t sound sure.

John forced his eyes open and met those blue eyes that were trying to see inside him. “Help a guy out?”

“Yeah.” Rodney looked away and took a step for the door. “Uh, open it?”

Embarrassed desire warred with caution and in-born restraint, and he wasn’t sure he _could_ open the door. It would be so easy to blame it on Atlantis, and Rodney would stay. John hated that he wanted it so badly. Wants like this were dangerous. Someone always got hurt. The door stuttered open.

“Tomorrow,” Rodney said tentatively.

“‘Night.” John tried to sound gruff, but he was afraid all he’d done was wheeze. It wasn’t as if the bed was big enough for two anyway. He turned to his side, escaped his sore head, and wanted to pull the covers over his face. Thinking like that would lead to a bad place. He could feel the pain killer dragging him to sleep, but he knew the truth. He was already there.

********

“I really do have to work today.”

“So, go work.” John put down his ace high two pair and smiled. “You got nothing.”

“Absolutely nothing.” McKay tossed down his cards. If he’d been playing Yahtzee, he still would’ve lost. “Why do you take such childish joy in beating me?”

“It’s fun.” John shuffled but didn’t deal again. He set them aside and let himself look at the man sitting facing him on the bed. Rodney had on his grey T-shirt and blue pants. His jacket had been tossed on the couch. He didn’t look as tired today.

“What?” Rodney crossed his arms over his chest.

John wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. He had that problem more than most people. The truth was the way to go. “You don’t look as tired today. I’m glad.”

“You still look pale, thin, and tired,” Rodney said almost defiantly. “I thought you healed quickly.”

“Usually do.” John wasn’t going to argue about the description, but he was always thin. “It’s probably some infection from the water.”

Rodney’s mouth sagged open. “You really think so? Oh God, I’ll call Carson.” He was one octave away from screeching.

Reaching, John put his hand on Rodney’s thigh. “I was joking, Rodney. I’m on antibiotics. I’ll be fine.”

“You better,” Rodney mumbled. He looked down at John’s hand. “You haven’t gone to see him yet.” The words were soft, low, and John felt them in his groin. Their eyes met and slid away, and John slid his hand back to Rodney’s knee. Removing it didn’t seem possible. The touch wasn’t much, through pants, but it was nice. John nearly rolled his eyes at himself. He was such a dork. Licking his lower lip, he desperately tried to think of something besides Rodney’s body.

“I need a shower.”

“I should go.”

They stared at each other, both with a measure of helplessness. John broke the silence first. “Go then.”

“I should make sure you don’t fall,” Rodney said slowly as if the words were being dragged out of him. “It would be polite.”

John went ahead and rolled his eyes. “Like we’re ever polite.” He still couldn’t quite remove his hand. “I’m not dizzy.”

“Well I am.” Rodney did seem to be breathing fast. He slowly got off the bed. “I need… some air.”

With a shrug that meant nothing and everything, John opened the door. He’d go take a shower and report to Carson. “Thanks.”

Rodney nodded and practically ran out the door. John shut it with a sigh. They were both hopeless. Even knowing what they wanted, they didn’t have the courage to take it, or ask for it, or even accidentally do it and then scream like little boys. He eased to his feet and went to get clean.

Leaning against the cool tiles, he focused on her. She was humming louder today than usual, and he wanted to know why. This whole thing with Atlantis picking on Rodney better be over, and he was going to shoot a drone or two up her exhaust pipes.

Carefully, he lowered the mental shield that kept her at bay so he could work. It wasn’t really a shield – Star Trek terminology had invaded his brain – but visualizing it that way made it easier. Wandering around in a daze from the shiny had only been cute for a day or two, and then he’d had to find a way to push her aside so he could focus on mundane things like finding quarters and putting away supplies.

She pulsed inside him, up his bones and down his skin. He felt his breath hitch, and the shower spun around a couple of times before he sank to his knees.

“John?”

He couldn’t answer.

“Oh, crap. I shouldn’t have left!”

Hot, so hot hands were on him, and he felt his body gasp but dimly. She was so much, and she had needs and demands, and he wasn’t getting loose until she’d told him everything.

“Move your ass, Carson!”

John rested his head on Rodney’s chest and let her sweep him away.

********

The damn chickens were back. He started to dislike them. They kept pecking, and pecking, and he raised his head to yell at them, but they weren’t there. “Oh, it’s you.”

Rodney slapped his laptop shut. “Carson!”

John winced and tried to hide under his pillow. He’d have made it if his arms had cooperated.

“Where the hell have you been, Sheppard?” Rodney demanded.

“Unconscious?” John blinked at the ferocity behind the words. “Sleeping? Hiding from you?”

Carson and his damn flashlight got right in John’s face. “Back among the living, lad?”

“Uh, yes?” John didn’t like the terrible looks Rodney was giving him. “Did something finally push him over the edge?” he whispered.

Strong fingers helped him sit up. “Breathe deep. Are you dizzy?”

“No.” John wasn’t, or he didn’t think so, but Rodney was making him nervous. “Help?” He met Carson’s kind eyes.

There was a small chuckle. “Rodney’s very angry with you for being ill. You should know better, and where do you get off collapsing?”

“Oh.” John knew all that. “He’s worse than usual.”

“Aye. He is.” Carson took John’s blood pressure. “Dinna worry. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“I’m right over here, and I’m not laughing!” Rodney looked deranged. “You said he was fine! And then he just fell over!”

“Shit.” John wanted to hide behind his IV pole. “Can you sedate him?”

“I wouldn’t even dare try.” Carson pulled up a stool and sat down. “Tell me what happened. Ignore the loony.”

John had a thought and cringed. “I’m naked.”

“Again!”

The laughter was impossible to hold back, but it didn’t last long. He was too tired. “Rodney, come here, sit down, and shut up.”

“You–. I–.” Rodney stomped over and perched on the edge of the bed. He opened his mouth to yell some more, and John stopped him with the smallest touch to crooked lips. It was time to get serious.

“There are power fluctuations in the ZPM that need to be dealt with. The sewers are backed up again, and someone actualized two conjoining labs with potential bio-hazards on the East Pier. They need to be remotely shut down and sealed. Do not attempt to find them with actual people.”

Carson and Rodney just stared at him. He fought the blush, but it won out in the end. Clearing his throat, he tried again, “And the DHD is dirty. She coughs when she has to dial the gate. I think someone spilled some food on it.”

“I’m going to kill Chuck!” Rodney was on his feet in a flash that Ronon would have admired. “I’ll be back! After I murder my entire staff!”

The silence was remarkable. Carson’s eyes were wide. “You were talking to the lady?”

“Yeah.” John was sorta embarrassed about it. “Usually, I block it all off, but I wanted to check on something, and she poured all this information into my sore head, and here I am.” He occasionally wished for normal DNA. “Since the thing with me turning into a bug.” He shuddered. “She hasn’t really demanded my time.”

“You’ve healed,” Carson said softly. “Has she ever been that strong before?”

“No.” John didn’t understand that. “In the past it was more of a feeling of wrongness somewhere. This time, she pushed the data into my brain and insisted I get–” He broke off, unsure if he should keep talking.

“Rodney to fix it,” Carson finished for him. “You realize that you sound daft.”

“Oh, do I ever.” John rubbed his face. He hadn’t understood her motivations for wanting him and Rodney to be closer, but he did now. She was a selfish bitch who wanted her parts fixed. He smiled and liked that about her. A good woman never took no for an answer. Now the question remained, how close was close enough?

“I think she used me as a conduit to understanding Rodney.”

“She wanted you with him so she could study him?” Carson had a sharp look on his face. John had to think about that. She did know him best, so it was very possible, but why had she trapped Rodney in a wall? John felt his groin twitch from that memory, and he shoved it away before he embarrassed himself.

“Possibly. Assigning motivations to a city is crazy.” John tugged the sheet higher. “I think she got what she wanted though, and I want a shirt now.”

Carson laughed and got up. “I’ll fetch some more clothes, and next time, don’t make her wait so long, and she might not knock you unconscious.”

“Good thinking.” John would schedule visitations and make sure Rodney was there to catch him. He rubbed his shoulders against the pillow, sighing softly. She wasn’t that stupid after all.

********

“Don’t… go,” John said and blushed.

Rodney hesitated. “Don’t you want some privacy now that you’re finally out of the stupid infirmary?”

“Not really.” He was never completely alone in his head, unless they were off-world. There were words unsaid dangling in the air, and he tried again but firmer this time, “The military commander of Atlantis is in charge of quarters for all personnel.”

“He is?” Rodney had to have known, but his look was innocent.

John kept his tone in the same vein. “He is. He’s sorta an asshole to deal with – trust me on that – but he and I had words yesterday when he was dead bored in bed with no hope of release.”

“Oh, the drama.” Rodney crossed his arm. “What did he do, John?”

“Have you been to your quarters today, Rodney?” John wanted to duck his head and deny his responsibility, but he didn’t, and the tingle of his name skipped up his spine. He met blue eyes with his own. There was a small thump as Rodney smacked himself in the forehead. John sat on the bed and waited for the real explosion.

“I wasn’t really all that attached to it.” Rodney shrugged. “So where did he move me?”

John laughed and kept with the game. “He convinced me that if we weren’t close the city wouldn’t like it all, and bad things would happen.”

“Yes, well, he’s a moron.”

That was more true than not. John leaned back on his arms and grinned up at him. “That way.” He hooked his thumb at the door.

 **The** frown was instant, and then Rodney was going towards it. “This wasn’t here the other day.”

“She insisted.” John still didn’t understand why, but he knew in his gut that this was how it was supposed to be. Them. Together. No doubt there would be a lot of adjustments to be made, not only by him, but by the universe in general. Hell, the laws of physics might just have to be turned upside down. Rodney was gone long enough to make John worry. She might want this, and he wanted this, but two of three wasn’t enough.

“I like the front room.” Rodney had a funny expression on his face. “And you have a balcony.” He paused. “I’m never around anyway.”

“Yeah, about that.” John eased to his feet and went to him. Gently, he put his hand on Rodney’s and wasn’t surprised at the small flinch. “Can you do this?”

Their eyes met and slid away. “She wants this. Do you?” Rodney asked.

“I wouldn’t have listened to Colonel Moron if I didn’t.” John made sure not to smile and laced his fingers through Rodney’s. Even this simple touch seemed like almost more than either of them could handle. “I’d rather fight Wraith than talk about my feelings.”

“Hey, let’s start a club!” Rodney gestured wildly with the other hand. “And to prove how gay I am, I’ll design the uniforms!”

John wasn’t proud that he winced, but he went with it. “Ouch,” he muttered. “Let’s just use the uniforms we have.” He couldn’t quite look at him. It was a surprise when Rodney pulled him that much closer.

“Sorry,” Rodney said quietly. “At least, with you, I don’t have to worry about making you think I’m an asshole.”

“Knowledge is power.” John smirked and tugged because he could. They were very close now. “I got some MRE’s.”

“Where?” Rodney smiled. “Hey, are you trying to talk dirty to me?” He lowered his voice. “It’s working.”

“I gotta sit down.” John felt like he was pulling eight g’s. His hand was stuck to Rodney’s, but his knees were shaking. Rodney dragged him to the bed and pushed, muttering about idiots. John hit it hard and hoped air came back into his lungs again soon. Rodney pressed the back of their hands onto John’s forehead. The lights flickered. John didn’t appreciate her gloating.

“Oh, shut up. We’d have gotten there eventually,” Rodney sniped at her. John laughed weakly and yanked him down. They leaned, breathed, and said nothing. Something inside him unwound.

“Did you hear a bell when we held hands that first time?”

“You’d suffered a blow to the head.” Rodney’s eyes were big. “Now I have heard ringing when you slap the back of _my_ head.”

John grinned, straightened his spine, and generally felt better about the galaxy. “So you’re not mad?” He’d worried about that since yesterday. “I ask Teyla and Ronon move your things. I didn’t think you’d want actual Marines touching your stuff.”

“You know me so well.” Rodney inched his other hand around John’s waist. “I’m not sleeping on this bed.”

“Yeah, we may need a genius to figure out that problem.” There was a huge ball of something in John’s throat. “No rush.”

Both of them found other things to look at, but neither of them got up to run. They did exchange a look that said they were both thinking it. Rodney finally eased away. “I gotta eat.”

“I gotta sleep.”

They did that.

*********

Epilogue

*********

She watched. She needed them both, and together they were stronger. More able to serve her needs. Her lastborn could not do it alone. It had taken time to find him the perfect partner, and she had probed the candidate’s mind to be certain of it. Their link made it possible for her to give him the correct words. The one she loved best was many things but not a scientist. Now their symbiosis could operate efficiently.

“Pick up your end!”

“My back is killing me!”

She shut the door for them and eased the gravity slightly to help.

“I was not designed to be a pack mule!”

“No, but you sure bray like a jackass!”

“Just for that. You can swim alone!”

Her lastborn threw something. It might have been a food substance. It was entirely possible her systems needed a quick diagnostic. She’d do that.

********

the end


End file.
